Funky monkey Dreamin
by kittyguts
Summary: Ever have one of those dreams where you wake up and think...What the Heck? Well this is just a silly little thing about those kind of dreams.


"Spank my monkey," he said, smirking at the computer screen.

The room, dark and the only sound were the distant snores of the utterly trashed teammate who'd been left in his care and had finally fallen asleep. His eyes flickered to the small numbers in the bottom of the screen, reading 3:08 AM. He'd be quiet at work but if Ken woke up in the middle of the night with the munchies or something, he would have no choice but to assist by going to the shops and satisfying his friend. Giving a resigned sigh, he rubbed at his tired eyes, the soft oil on his forehead transferred to his hand and he brought it to his lap again, the other hand on the mouse as the screen gave a small flash. The next chapter. His eyes hungrily found the opening line and made their way slowly down.

He let the images caress his body, inducing spontaneous reactions from various parts of his body. He didn't mind so much because it wasn't real, and he didn't much mind being aroused by an online story. But when it came to his dreams, he was afraid to go to sleep because he didn't want those feelings when he looked at Ken sleeping so soundly. Suddenly his stomach jolted as his crotch hardened suddenly. Blushing, the teen closed off the computer and made for the showers. But to get to the shower, he'd have to pass his sleeping comrade-which could prove a little...devastating...at the present moment.

Sucking the cold morning air into his lungs, he looked sheepishly around the room and proceeded to walk in the direction of the showers, keeping his focus straight ahead...not now...not yet...damn.

One millisecond later, he found himself kneeling by the sleeping specimen of sportsmen manliness, quivering with every breath, he lifted a shaking finger to the sweaty forehead and brushed a strand of gelled hair out of the closed eyes. He rested his chin on the side of the couch and sighed.

"My lovely, if we were in another time, you woud be my prince and I would be your princess, I think I would still love you. Just as you are. Right now."

The teen sighed dreamily as he pulled his hand away and just stared at the sleeping man. A feeling of Shakespeareanity (not a word I know but just let me use it) came over him as he admired every little wrinkle embedded on the olive skin. The ones lining his eyes from smiling all the time, the small bags from an unexplained lack of sleep lately, the list went on.

Ken stirred, wiping at his eyes and murmuring something inaudible before turning on his side to face the teen in his sleep.

Shaken from the daydream, Omi stood rapidly and without a backward glance, strode to a welcome cold shower.

Ken frowned, he pictured a castle where he found himself twirling in front of a floor length mirror, donning a frilled Victorian dress of the colour dusted pink. But as he looked down at his amazing figure, he ran his hands down his cruvy waist lusiously licking his lips and sucking his stomach a little to make his boobs stick out. He froze...I have boobs...Curiously he cupped them, letting them fill out his palms. They were the perfect size. And then he noticed his hair, it was in loose waves and it was beautifully long. He always loved girls with long hair and now he ran his fingers excitedly through it. Just as soft as he had always imagined. Grinnig inanely at this perfect picture, he heard a distant voice calling to him.

"My lovely princess..."

His heart suddenly gave a flutter, but he was a guy, who could his prince be? He darted girlishly over to the window and looked down. He gave a startled gasp, afraid of heights.

"What's wrong princess?" the call came from below.

He swallowed hard and looked down again as the prince laughed.

"What's wrong my beautious lady, come down. Let my eyes drink in your beauty, and my lips caress every corner of your wonderous mouth," he called up playfully.

Ken pulled himself inside, "Uh-oh."

The prince. The prince...he looked an aweful lot like...Yohji...Yohji thought he was a girl...and then Yohji would want...

Ken gulped, feeling his heart race inside his chest. Time to wake up, anytime soon would do.

"Fine, I'll come to you, sweetheart!" the man in the poofy blue pantaloon and tights shotued distantly.

The brunette broke out into a cold sweat as there was a pounding on the door.

Waking up any second now... any second now...would be...gulp...nice.

The door swung open and Yohji waltzed in, handing him a rose. Ken bushed as the blonde sidled his way up to him, running his hands up and down Ken's waist.

"What's say we ditch this dress along with the formalities and you give me what I so readily desire, my pretty diamond?" he said closing the proximity dangerously.

Ken's blood ran cold. Yohji was rubbing his crotch on him, and he was reacting.

Suddenly the blonde started shaking him violently by the shoulders.

"Ken, it's noon. Your turn to do the shopping this week!" Omi said.

Ken sat up, the curtains were drawn and he was sweating profusely. Looking around, he saw Omi's concerned eyes.

"What were you dreaming about?" the teen asked raising an eyebrow at Ken's lap.

The man blushed and covered up his lap nervously, "Dresses and underwear."

"Sure..." Omi replied, "Anyway, I hope your hangover isn't too bad, but there's money on the table for groveries. I'm going back to school now."

"O-okay," he said nodding, "I'll just get cleaned up. See you when you get home."

It wasn't until he hit the warm water that the headache hit him. Sighing, he took in the pain, pondering the dream and looking up at the shower head with bewilderment. Why did he have to be a girl?


End file.
